Kindred Spirits
by riot3672
Summary: When Hiroshi succeeds in capturing Asami during the final step to the Equalist takeover, Amon has other plans for young Miss Sato. Requesting that he be the one to "convert" Asami to their ways, Asami soon finds herself face-to-face with what it means to be a non-bender and accepting that perhaps Amon isn't the monster she hopes he is. AU, post-episode 10; Amon/Asami - one shot -


**A/N: **Hi all! This was just a quick fic I thought up this morning, and I thought I'd share it because I do see some potential in Amon/Asami if done right. With certain Amon theories such as the one I used in this story (which, I will note, is different than in my fic _A Broken Mask_), I can see those two being able to connect.

Anyway, takes place after 'Turning the Tides,' AU, totally contrived plot. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

For the first time in the weeks since Asami joined the Avatar, Hiroshi Sato could finally see the light. During the initial attacks on Republic City, Amon's second-in-command managed to catch his daughter in the midst of a scuffle. Now, him and Amon standing at the front of their airship, gazing out as the attacks smoothly unfolded, his heart swelled just thinking of seeing his daughter again, out of the influence of the Avatar and her bender friends.

"Thank you, Amon," he said in a small voice.

Amon broke his gaze of his attack, slowly turning his head to face Hiroshi. "Have some respect for our subordinates, Hiroshi. I've been here the whole time."

Hiroshi could almost feel the slightly smug expression under the mask. "I'll be giving the Lieutenant a reward for his work."

Amon's fingers fidgeted in their clasped position behind his back. "Our work with your daughter isn't complete. She still needs to be enlightened."

Hiroshi was about to say something else, but the Lieutenant appeared, an unconscious Asami in his arms. Her clothing hadn't been gently washed in weeks, and the Equalist glove he gave her still stuck to her limp arm. Hiroshi, despite all logic, panicked at the sight of his daughter.

"Did you hurt he—?" he demanded, his voice rising a bit higher than usual.

Amon stepped forward and lightly grabbed Hiroshi's arm. "Your daughter is fine, Mr. Sato. Lieutenant?" The Lieutenant walked over and handed Asami to Amon. "Good work. I expect you'll be continuing your work for today?"

He nodded. "It'll be done."

"Excellent. Thank you."

The Lieutenant gave a quick bow, and disappeared. Hiroshi stared at Amon in confusion.

"What are you doing with her?"

Amon adjusted Asami, her head now resting against his shoulder. "If we're going to convert her, we can't have you be the one to do it. You know as well as I do that teenagers tend not to respond to their parents."

"She's my daughter, Amon. I don't think you'd have her best interests at heart."

Amon turned to Hiroshi, Hiroshi actually able to see Amon's eyes through the mask. "And what are those best interests, Mr. Sato?"

Hiroshi almost struggled to find words. "She can't work with the Avatar anymore. She needs to learn the ways of non-benders, about the oppression, about the tragedy they've caused…"

"I've moved hundreds to our cause seamlessly, and she won't have the familial grudge against me. Allow me to save you the stress, Mr. Sato. You have a couple rallying speeches to write anyway. It's about time our followers hear more than my voice."

Hiroshi still felt discomfort at the sight of his daughter in the hands of Amon, but knew he was right. Besides, Amon was one of the most levelheaded and goal-centric people he'd ever meet. Any irrational parental fears with leaving him alone with Asami were all in his head.

"You promise you won't hurt her?" Hiroshi confirmed.

"Of course not, Mr. Sato."

As the night crawled forward, Amon gathered a still unconscious Asami in his arms and took a platform from the airship to his base of operations. As they descended, Asami began to stir.

"Mako, what are you doing?" she muttered.

Amon smirked; wouldn't she be in for a surprise. He thought about a response, but decided to leave her in her peace for a few more seconds. He stepped off the platform and onto the deserted streets. Asami opened eyes, her eyelids still a bit heavy. "…Amon?"

The young woman's tone didn't suggest she was fully aware of her surroundings. "Take it slow, Miss Sato. You took a hard hit."

Her eyes began darting back and forth. "What are you—where's everyone? Wh—put me down!"

"Of course, Miss Sato." He dropped her feet down and lightly held her shoulder as she tried to catch her equilibrium. To Asami's embarrassment, she couldn't take one step forward, and had to have Amon pull her back from falling on her face. "You really did take a hard hit."

His hand still gripping her shoulder, he rested her on him while they walked to his base.

"Where's K—?" Asami asked.

"Let's save the questions for when we're safely inside."

The young Sato managed to keep quiet long enough for Amon to open the door to his private apartment. He dropped her on a chair and took a seat across from her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, allowing himself to strip away the cold, controlled demeanor he took on during all Equalist attacks.

She crossed her arms. "I'm not having petty conversation with the enemy. What did you do to Korra and the others?"

"Your father had a special request for you. The Avatar and her friends are still in hiding."

As much as Asami hated to admit it, she was a tiny bit glad to be out of the hobo retreat, with Mako and Korra just waiting for her to turn her head so they could kiss. Plus, Amon's home was tastefully decorated, simply furnished, and had a warm feel circulating throughout.

"What does my father want from me?"

Amon seemed a bit distracted, removing his knee high boots. "The same as you're expecting: he wants you to join us."

"Tell him that kidnapping me won't change my mind. Your Equalist movement is terrorism, not proper reform."

Amon pulled one boot off, placed it beside his chair, and worked on the second. "Unfortunately, I won't be in contact with your father before you."

"Why not? Aren't you two in constant communication?"

Amon removed his other boot and placed it beside his first. "I'm clocking in for the night. In case you didn't realize, my job requires twenty-four/seven work for weeks on end. I think I can humbly say I deserve a break."

As Asami watched Amon move to removing his hooded coat, a tiny flame of anxiety flared in her stomach; would Amon take off his mask?

"Does he at least know I'm okay?"

Amon raised an eyebrow. "Do you really care?"

Asami ran her hand through her hair. "Could we skip the propaganda? I don't think I can stomach more Equalist talk tonight."

Amon pulled off the shoulder pads and the wrist cuffs. "I wasn't planning on raining propaganda on you. I figure we could have a more…_personal _conversation."

Asami smirked. "Is that why you're stripping?"

Amon leaned back, his hands in his lap. "I'm done." He glanced at her outerwear she appeared to be refusing to take off. "You can take off your shoes too. It's not like you're going anywhere."

Asami felt some kind of dread mount inside her. "I'm not having small talk with you."

Amon stood, causing Asami to jump. "No need to scare yourself. Would you like some tea?"

"No."

Amon smiled beneath the mask. "You're quite stubborn. A bit like me at your age."

"I'm _nothing_ like you."

Amon chuckled as he filled the teapot with water. "I didn't mean to suggest anything."

"You're awful. The lives you've ruined, this useless war you waged. Why didn't you try to just talk with the council and ask for non-bender representation? What's so hard about that?"

Amon waited until his tea was finished to answer. "It's sad how you don't think I tried that. Benders simply won't stand to let their supposed subordinates have a voice."

"You don't know anything about benders! Have you even spent a day with one without your extremism? I'll have you know that the Avatar and the whole group have given me a home and treated me like family."

Amon sat back down, offering her a cup of tea. She declined. "You're only looking at the surface of the actions, Asami. Yes, they've housed you and fed you and taken you on their little adventures, but that doesn't account for how they really treat you. Let's think about this a bit, shall we? They treat you like a driver with the enemy's weapon. I bet they've told you that you look strange in place with that glove, haven't they?" Asami looked away. "Even the firebender boy you've been dating has his eyes on the Avatar, and prefers her."

"You know nothing about my personal life. How do you even know—?"

Amon picked up the tea, relishing in the warmth it spread to his hand. "A worker of mine told me a cute story about how the firebender almost killed him in order to find the Avatar's whereabouts."

Amon put his tea down, stood, and pulled Asami to her feet. "Mako didn't—"

"Mako's his name, huh? A cute name for the cute young boy who's out courting the Avatar. Come on, sweetheart. What do you think he's doing now? I'd bet real money that he's out trying to find the Avatar alone, in thought, so he can just lean over and remind her that she wants him, and that someone as insignificant as you shouldn't matter. I know one thing for sure, Asami: Mako won't be trying to kill any Equalists to find you."

Asami, fresh anger and an unflinching feeling that Amon was right caused her to bring her knee up into his crotch as hard as she physically could. There was a brief moment of satisfaction as he doubled over and grunted in pain. She finally let her lips curl up into a satisfied smile as he gasped for air. But, when he returned to his feet, she backed back into the couch.

"I guess all your father's self defense classes weren't completely in vain."

"Are you done yet?"

He took his seat again. "Done with what?"

"Manipulating me."

He took his tea again. "I'm not manipulating you, Miss Sato. Just opening you to another view." To her surprise, Amon lifted the top of his mask and took a sip of tea, revealing a pale complexion with the hint of some off coloring to the side. "I know what you're going through. Look at us, and look at what we've been through. All I want is for tragedies like your mother and my family to never happen again. I want non-benders to have a fighting chance, and technology and strong words are going to bring us there. I don't see where you find the point to disagree."

"You're a monster! You take away innocent people's bending—"

"You call the Triple Threat Triad innocent?"

"And once you're fully in power, you'll begin using _your_ abilities to intimidate benders, just like you said not to. You're a hypocrite. I bet your story isn't even true, and that you use some special form of bending to take others' bending."

Amon was about to answer when a knock sounded on his door. "One moment, Miss Sato."

A tray of food was pushed through a compartment at arm level. "Thanks. Everything going as planned?"

"All done," a voice from the other side replied.

"If all is finished, let the brothers and sisters who've worked the night shift to have the night off. We've all been working too hard lately."

"Have a good night, Amon."

"You too." Amon set the tray between him and Asami. "You don't have to torture yourself. I'm sure it's been a while since you've had a good meal."

Thinking back to the dumpster gruel, Asami knew how right he was, but was not going to admit it now. "I'll eat if you take off your mask."

"I'm curious, Asami. Why don't you believe me? Why do you think I'd lie about myself, when doing so could endanger my platform?"

She looked away. "Because you're power hungry, and would go to any extreme to get this revolution alive and running. Including stealing my father from me."

"Your father came to me, Miss Sato."

"I don't believe you. You lie. You've lied since your first rally. You claim you're helping the world, but you're not. You won't take off your mask because then people will realize what kind of a fake you are. You have no idea how hard it is, to lose my mother the way I do then have my father betray me like he did."

Amon took a deep breath. "If I must, I'll prove to you that I'm not lying."

Asami watched with wide eyes as Amon loosened the straps of his mask and pulled it from his face. She couldn't help it; she gasped when she first saw it:

Black strands of his ear-length hair stuck to where the mask had fused with sweat from the chaffing, flawless pale skin, serious amber eyes, and that scar. It covered from the right side of his face diagonally down to the left side of his chin, and covered diagonally to the right in countless thin, reddish lines. The side of his nose, his chin, his cheek, and his right ear had patches of angry red skin. The hair on his right eyebrow was uneven, and his eyelashes grew distinctly shorter than those on his left eye.

"I really was born on a farm where this happened." He pulled out a small, folded up photo. When Asami unwrapped it, it was a grainy photo of a man, a woman, and a little boy. "A good leader doesn't lie about his past."

Asami's eyes filled with tears. "It could be makeup. You're crazy. You'd…" She leaned across the table and used her nail on the red patch on his nose, only for it to begin oozing blood. "Spirits—"

Amon took the napkin on the tray and dabbed his nose. "It's okay. The skin peals sometimes, and it was still healing."

"You—"

"I wasn't lying, and I never was." She let her tears fall, shamefully covering her face with her hands. Amon, feeling an unfamiliar empathy for Sato's daughter, picked himself up, sat beside her, and put an arm around her shoulder. "Please don't cry, Asami."

She lifted her head, using her hand to wipe her eyes. "You're the first person wh-who…"

His expression softened. "Understands."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" He leaned down and picked up the other cup of tea. "Here, it's probably a little cool, but it should help."

She took a sip and breathed heavily. "Thanks."

"We're like kindred spirits, you and I. Fire Nation heritage, non-benders, abused for our supposed weakness, scarred from the loss of our loved ones, kicked every time we fall," he smiled, "yet never take failure as an option."

"You're Amon, leader of the Equalists. Who's kicked you?"

He ran a thumb over his scarred cheek. "The life of a non-bender is never an easy one. To get where I am—it took not only days and nights handing out flyers and giving small talks, but years, decades even, learning chi blocking, acrobatics, and chi flow arts."

Asami wiped her eyes again. "Did you just give me your bending secrets?"

He smiled. "It's not magic, you know. No spirit involvement, no bending at all."

Her brow crinkled. "Just—chi blocking?"

He shook his head. "I started off chi blocking, but then I learned about chakras, and what they do to the body. If one opens their chakras, great skills can be gained. Resisting blood bending, for instance. Blocking chi paths in benders."

Asami shook her head. "You truly are the most powerful non-bender in the world, aren't you?"

"If I admit to that, tomorrow I'm going to find someone more powerful."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He laced his hand in hers. "Because I care about you, Asami. You may have not known it, but your father and I have been involved almost since your mother died. I watched you suffer from your incomplete life, and I now see your inner confusion. You want to do what's best, but whichever side you choose is too extreme. You're a non-bender who doesn't want to be oppressed, yet you don't want to take away anyone else's birthright." He paused. "Neither do I, whether you believe it or not. I wish we could resolve this peacefully, but extremes cannot meet without an explosion. I'm sorry your father has become the man he is."

Asami couldn't hear another word of this. This was Amon, leader of the Equalists, master verbal manipulator. He was using her. "I'm not going to be manipulated. I won't join the Equalists. I won't fall to your extreme."

"Look at me, for a second." Hesitantly, she looked right into his burning golden eyes. "I don't want you to become an Equalist. I see the mortality in my revolution. I know one day, the Equalists will fall out of power and I'll one day die. But, you know what won't, and what I really want out of this movement?" He leaned into her. "The idea. Equality. That's what I want from you: I want you to spread the message of equality, of a cease of fear from non-benders of benders, of non-benders having a voice in power, of non-bender children growing with the self-assurance that they can be just as great fighters."

She swallowed. "That's…kind of beautiful."

"Like you."

She felt her cheeks redden. "What'd you say?"

The face she'd never been able to imagine in her greatest nightmares wore a playful smile. "You're beautiful. Stunning, actually. I'm guessing your firebender didn't say it enough."

She'd heard it before—even from Mako—but it didn't make her heartbeat speed up like his did. "You're being honest with me, right?"

"Yes."

She leaned in and pressed her lips against his. At first, he froze, but Asami kept the kiss alive, and felt a thrill unlike any other when she felt him kiss back. The rough skin of his palm moved to her cheek, and his fingertips held the lightest touch on her skin. Asami pulled away, the blush in her cheeks fully pronounced. To her surprise, he had a bit of pink in his cheeks as well.

"I thought someone with your charm and voice would've had a lot of ladies," Asami teased.

He shook his head. "The Lieutenant and Hiroshi are lucky if I let them have tea in front of me. No one's even seen my face."

She tried to stroke his cheek, but he pushed her hand away. "Well, if it means anything, you're actually kind of handsome under that mask."

He took a deep breath. "Now you're manipulating me."

She pulled a bowl of noodles onto her lap. "This usually any good?"

"Better than whatever you found in hiding."

As they ate, Asami couldn't help but watch Amon. As he navigated through dinner with every dining mannerism she'd been forced to learn, she couldn't help but bask in the fact that he was _human_. She and Bolin used to spend nights together trying to guess if Amon was a spirit or a robot or something, and human hadn't even been in the brink of possibility. Well, bender was, not certainly not a non-bender.

"You saved my sanity with this," Asami admitted as Amon collected the dishes.

He smiled. "Good, although a bit pathetic if that's all it takes."

"Is your real name Amon?"

"Yup."

Asami picked up the mask Amon left on the coffee table. "You know, you could win a lot of sympathy for your real face."

He took the mask back, and sat beside her. "This mask provides mystery and fear. I need those more than sympathy. People cower, thinking I'm some spirit or monster, and it's because they can't see my face. If they knew that I really was just some twenty-something year old with Fire Nation ancestors who got burned, I'd lose a lot of my hold on my audience."

"But…how can you live behind an alias?"

Her head was lying on his chest, and it was unbelievable how warm she was making him feel. "You know your father will never be the man you want. Let it come from someone who knows—he's lost his mind. He doesn't want you to be an Equalist so he can have his daughter back, he only wants you to aid his revenge. I can handle Sato because I can sense where to place him if I want him to tip over the edge and make himself vulnerable for capture. But you—I'd never be able to sacrifice a child like that. Your father—he has the capabilities to let his anger and grief make him cruel. You never housed that rage, and it's made you stronger than him. It's why I don't want you to join us."

"Why don't you just leave the revolution if it's become something you don't believe in?"

"I do believe in it, and I do believe that the end justifies the means. I'm a hopeless cause. You can still walk the middle ground, find the sanity in all this. Besides, I could never let my brothers and sisters down."

She took his hand. "Dad doesn't love anymore. What you said—it's right. I know. I just—" She bit back a sob. "I really wish it wasn't." She squeezed her eyes shut. "I just—I wish there was some way he could see what kind of pain I'd gone through, to know the kind of betrayal I've felt and be able to do nothing about it."

"If only."

Asami's green eyes brightened. "I think I know how."

"I cannot betray my revolution for you."

She smiled. "It's nothing that'll hurt your revolution." She put a hand on his chest. "You have a bedroom, right?"

He knew what she wanted, and he knew he shouldn't allow it, but they moved to his bedroom.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked.

"When's the last time you had fun?"

Ignoring the fact that she hated him a couple hours ago, he let her thread her hand into his hair and her lips meet his. Their kiss deepened, and sparks unlike anything she'd felt with Mako flew through her body and mind. His hands were kept chaste, one in her hair and one resting on the back of her neck. She moved his hand to her chest as her own hands found the opening to his shirt.

"Tonight, I have one request," she whispered in his ear. "Make sure it'll show in the morning."

A crooked smile appeared on his face as Asami pulled his and her shirts off. He shivered as her soft touch explored his bare torso. Instead of making plans for the next week's rallies, his tactile mind could think of no more than how he was going to make Sato's daughter glad she ended up with him. She began making little sounds when his tongue touched her collarbone. He kissed the spot, moved up a bit, kissed the next spot. He smiled a loose smile and applied necessary pressure on the spot. She sighed, and traced circles on his back.

Once he could see the blood clot beneath her skin, he smirked moved his neck into an easily accessible place for Asami. Although she hesitated a bit, she returned the favor.

"Amon…" Asami muttered once she was done.

"Yeah?"

"Could we…maybe stop here?"

He was a bit relieved, although he would've never admitted it. Logical things had returned to his mind: pregnancy issues, whether or not she was experienced, and what kind of crazy things Asami could get him to do under that kind of intimacy. "If you wish, Miss Sato."

"Call me Asami."

He nodded. "You deserve so much better than what you've been given. Don't let the firebender boy make you feel any less."

She smiled. "Thanks. It means a lot." She snuggled into the crook of his neck. "You smell really nice too. Cologne?" He nodded. "Yeah, you should be getting a lot more women."

They exchanged one last peck before Asami fell asleep.

* * *

"How're we—?" Asami asked Amon the next morning as they walked toward the room Hiroshi ordered to see his daughter in.

"Just follow my lead. Look bashful."

As soon as he opened the door, Amon looked to Asami and smirked. "I had a great time with you last night. You've turned into quite a young woman."

Asami actually blushed. "Thanks for everything."

He ran his fingers from her shoulder down to her hand. "Anytime."

Hiroshi stared in silence that quickly translated to indignation. "What did you do with her?"

Amon smiled. "I converted her."

Although he wasn't sure if Hiroshi caught his wink, he knew Asami did. Hiroshi grabbed his daughter's arm. "I think you've spent enough time with Amon."

Asami giggled. "Don't worry, Dad. He was a gentleman."

Amon walked past the two, and managed to slide his fingers along the side of her chest. She lightly caught his hand with her own.

Hiroshi kept himself between the two for the rest of the day, and requested that an unlucky Equalist always be present when he had to leave them alone.

That night, Amon took an Equalist glove, shocked Asami, and made sure she woke up someplace safe.

When she woke up, she found a note lying in her hands.

_Don't forget who you are, and who you can make yourself. – A_

Asami smiled as she folded the note back into her jacket pocket.

* * *

**A/N: **And there we have it, a hopefully decently paced and in character Amon/Asami fic. Thanks all for reading!


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